


Loving you

by bouj525



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Hopeful Ending, More angst, Moving On, Theres hope too, Valentine's Day, but maybe a bittersweet end?, even more angst, it includes s4 tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-29 05:16:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17801708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bouj525/pseuds/bouj525
Summary: Allie Novak through the years, from six years old to when she is released from prison.A love-hate relationship with Valentine's day as she copes with life's challenges.S4 finale remains as it is, I am so sorry.





	Loving you

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in five hours (!) and I wanted to publish it for Valentine's Day, but I got busy.
> 
> It's completely unrelated to my other story.
> 
> It's super angsty, but maybe a little hopeful too? 
> 
> Inspired by the song "Loving you" by Seafret.

** Loving you **

Allie is six years old when she realizes that she likes girls.

She disobeys her parents and ventures away from the safety of her house to follow the hypnotizing melody of an ice cream truck. She knows she shouldn’t, but she thinks that she deserves a bit of freedom after eating all her vegetables. After all, it took a lot of strength for her to finish that awful plate of broccoli.

She’s reckless, and fearless, and she knows her mother is too focused on drinking a strange liquid from a glass bottle to notice that she’s gone. Her father won’t notice either because he is working in his office, and she knows better than to disturb him. The front door remains wide open when she runs through it and starts chasing the truck down the street, laughing as more kids join her.

She screams for the truck to stop, and when it does, she’s the first one in line to get her treat. She asks for a mix of chocolate and strawberry, and it doesn’t matter that she is missing two teeth from her mouth, she smiles brightly without embarrassment. She is asked for three dollars and she frowns, pulling air from her tiny pockets.

The big man looks down at her with an apologetic smile and he takes the cone out of her hands, and she wants to cry at the cruel injustice.

She doesn’t know yet that everything has a price, and she sits on the sidewalk and pouts.

She watches the other kids eat their ice cream and gets jealous when a girl her age ends up with the exact same flavors she ordered a few minutes ago. She sticks her tongue at that girl and crosses her arms against her chest, feeling like it’s the end of the world.

She’s about to go home when the girl walks up to her and shoves the ice cream in her hand.

“Will you be my Valentine?” the girl asks with huge curious green eyes.

She’s only known Valentine’s Day as a day to make cards and draw small hearts on any piece of paper available around her. She doesn’t know what it means to be someone’s Valentine, but the girl is right in front of her, and she has a smile that Allie likes to look at, and with the ice cream in her hand, she sees no reason to refuse.

After all, it’s only ice cream, and that’s the only reason her small heart is suddenly beating out of control in her chest.

She runs back home later, her right cheek covered with ice cream, and her left cheek haunted by the ghost of soft innocent lips pressing again her skin.

***

She gets her first girlfriend when she’s learning about mathematics and all the most boring things at elementary school.

She asks her at recess, when the sun is high in the sky and the other girl’s brown hair looks like chocolate. She gives her a small piece of paper on which the other girl can simply circle _yes_ or _no_ because it’s easy and she doesn’t think about it twice. She squeals when the other girl says yes.

They walk with their hands together for two weeks before Allie thinks that this is the greatest love story she’ll ever have. They play pretend and act like a couple. They call each other _wife_ and _wifey_ , and they act like everyone else is just another member of the family. They talk about boys and how disgusting they are, and they talk about girls and how beautiful they are.

They meet up secretly behind the school one day, when her parents are yelling at each other and she wants an escape from a house that feels colder with every passing day. She kicks a rock with all her strength, and she frowns when she notices it hasn’t broken despite all the power she puts in her kick.

The girl’s hand reaches for her, and Allie thinks that this is how affection should feel like, rather than loud words being yelled all day long.

“Do you want to kiss?” the other girl asks.

“How?” she replies, because she has no idea how this works.

“Just stay still,” the other girl says, a childish goofy smile on her face.

It’s clumsy and chaste, and it lasts a second before they pull away, cheeks red and eyes shying away from the other. They don’t kiss again afterwards. Kisses are for grown-ups, and they’re fine with just holding hands and pretending to be married. Kisses are weird, and they’re tricky because what if one of them gets pregnant?

Allie thinks that things are fine just the way they are.

When she goes back to class, the teacher announces that they’re all going to create Valentine’s Day cards for tomorrow.

She writes one for her girlfriend and she cuts it in the shape of a heart.

***

She can’t stop thinking about that girl, the one in the other class, with the long shiny hair and the smile that brightens her entire world.

She spends hours thinking about how to ask her out. It won’t be a game anymore, it’ll be for real, and all her friends are going to know it. She thinks she might pass out when she asks her crush out with a trembling voice. She beams when she isn’t rejected and lands her very first official date as a teenager.

She plans it out carefully, and on the day it finally happens, the butterflies in her stomach make her want to throw up. She doesn’t, and she gets through this without trouble, her natural charm doing the hard word. The other girl doesn’t stop laughing, and Allie thinks she has never heard something more perfect in her life.

She has her _real_ first kiss right there, because anything that happened in elementary school doesn’t count anymore, on the porch of her house. Her eyes are closed, and her lips are tingling from the pressure they’re subjected to, and all her dreams are coming true in that very moment.

The next months go by too quickly. She falls in love hard and fast, and because she’s a hopeless romantic, she tells her girlfriend that she loves her for the first time on Valentine’s Day.

She hears it back and she thinks she was born to receive those words.

***

It doesn’t last long.

Her parents find out about it a year later, when she’s out and proud at school, but still living a lie at home. She tries to tell them that what she feels is real, that she won’t go to Hell or end up forever alone. She tells them that she’s in love and that her love is reciprocated, and that it is nothing to be ashamed of.

They laugh at her, and she repeats the same words over and over, hoping that if they hear it often enough, they might start to believe her. They don’t believe her, and she storms out of the house, slamming the doors and not looking back.

She goes to school and finds comfort in her girlfriend’s arms. It feels better than the house that isn’t a home anymore. She skips her afternoon classes and ends up wandering secretly in the empty hallway.

She cries a little, and she thinks she might hyperventilate, but a boy sees her and tells her he knows what can make her feel better. She doesn’t believe him at first, thinking he might be one of those jerks who want to _turn_ her. She follows him in a dark corner outside the school, ready to beat the shit out of him, and he pulls a small bag from his pocket.

She tries weed for the first time and it helps. She breathes a little easier, and she laughs a little harder, and the sense of calm that surrounds her is enough to make her think that today is just one bad day in her life.

She walks back home, high and relaxed.

Everything shatters when she realizes the door lock has been changed already.

***

She thinks it’ll be fine, that it’s temporary and that her parents aren’t like the ones in all the horror stories she’s heard about coming out.

She spends the night at her girlfriend’s. They sleep together in the same bed for the first time, and their kisses grow deeper, but they never push it too far. They exchange secrets smiles and whispered promises, and Allie thinks that she’ll be fine no matter what happens with her family.

She realizes her mistakes three weeks later, when she’s still not allowed back into her house, and when the girl she’s fallen so deeply in love with tells her that it’s over.

“My parents won’t let me see you anymore.”

It’s a simple sentence that ends her life as she knows it. A simple sentence pronounced with a voice laced with pity and sadness, but no regrets, no resistance.

It’s stupid, and cruel, and Allie wonders why _parents_ are the ones deciding who their kids should love. She tells herself that she won’t let her parents decide for her anymore. She can do this on her own. She doesn’t have to be an adult to make the big decisions and create a future for herself.

“Don’t give up on us,” she pleads ultimately, trying to fix what has been broken by people who shouldn’t be allowed to have this power.

“Sorry,” the girl murmurs before closing the door softly.

It clicks when it is locked, and Allie hears it a thousand times louder than it actually is.

She’s left there, on the sidewalks, heartbroken and alone, and she forgets that today is supposed to be a celebration of love.

***

She’s watching the cars silently. It’s cold outside, and her tight skirt is not helping the situation. It’s her first time doing this, and she’s shaking uncontrollably. She stares at all those other women, some younger than she is, and she wonders how they can let people treat them like a merchandise. She tells herself that this is just a one-night thing, just a small bump in the road so she can get money quickly before she gets a better job.

She’s fresh meat, and soon, dozens of cars are stopping by, asking for her prices. She’s clueless and blurts out a random number, and another street worker has the kindness to yell that she can ask for more.

She doesn’t know it yet, but it’s the only time anyone in the streets will ever be kind to her.

She picks a man that looks good and clean, and even though she’s not attracted to him, she needs the money to eat. She hasn’t eaten in two days, and she thinks she might die tonight if she doesn’t do something about it.

He asks for a quick handjob, and she thinks it’s easy money.

He ends up stealing her virginity while she shuts her eyes as hard as she can, trying to pretend like the sharp pain between her legs doesn’t exist. It doesn’t work, and it hurts more than just her body.

She wakes up in the motel room, cold and naked, and a few bills scattered around her.

She picks them up and tells herself that she’ll never do this again.

***

She meets Marie Winter a couple of days later.

She hasn’t sold herself since that first night, and she only meets the older woman because she smells food being offered to her. She looks up and grabs the other woman’s hand, unaware that she’s making a deal with the devil.

She eats more in the next week than she has in a month. She learns what it feels to sleep in a bed again, and she yearns for the touch of someone human. When Marie gives her a break from her erratic life, Allie takes it and doesn’t let it go.

She reacquaints with weed and meets its friends in the form of pills. It doesn’t take her long to become addicted, but it’s okay because Marie is there with her. She tries everything until she gets a dose of heroin. Then, she only wants that, and nothing else. Marie gives it to her, and doesn’t shame her for needing it.

Marie is beautiful, and addicting, and she makes Allie feel like she’s alive again in the middle of the night with touches that are nothing like a rapist’s. She buys her a rose on Valentine’s Day, and Allie thinks that this must be love.

This must be the same type of love that she’s had in the past, the one that’s comforting and bulletproof, and this one will never end.

“Would you like to work for me?”

Allie’s mind is clouded by drugs and the illusion of love when she says yes.

***

Everything has a price, she thinks, as she parades on the sidewalks, luring the clients with her confident moves and her innocent face. She rejects a few offers, now that she’s wise enough to know best. Her sixth sense is sharp enough that she can distinguish the good clients from the suspicious ones, and she feels what remains of her heart ache when the new girls fall into the traps. She plasters a fake smile on her face.

Marie is looking at her in the distance, and Allie tries not to let it affect her.

She found Marie in bed with another woman last night, doing heroin and God knows what else. This was supposed to be _their_ thing. This was supposed to be her bed, and her place to belong.

She should have known, but now it’s too late. She wants heroin, but she’ll never ask Marie for it. She’ll find someone else, but she needs money for it, and addiction is choking her alive. She needs to work for it. She took a heavy dose of ice before she went outside. The cold bites her skin, but she doesn’t feel it anymore.

She’s used to the lonely nights and the dirty motel rooms now.

She takes whoever’s offer is the best and jumps in the car. She knows the route to the motel by heart by now, and when she feels her client tearing her clothes apart, she doesn’t resist.

It’s Valentine’s Day and she doesn’t quite believe in love anymore.

***

She’s too high to care, and her brain is swimming in a sea of heroin, cocaine and ice. She hears sounds she’s not supposed to, and she sees things that aren’t really in front of her. She’s alone in a crowded room and she thinks a ghost pushes her out of the way. She closes her eyes, but it doesn’t stop the images from coming.

She’s floating in-between different worlds, and the lines between reality and paradise blur.

She finds love in the way she smokes at three in the morning.

She finds love in the way she swallows a handful of pills at the same time without needing water.

She finds love in the way the needle empties its contents in her bloodstream.

She doesn’t notice it’s Valentine’s Day anymore.

***

She meets Kaz when she’s dancing between life and death.

Kaz doesn’t look at her like she’s worthless.

She is brought to a shelter where she is given clean clothes and a warm bed.

She hates everything.

She doesn’t want what they are offering her if it means she’ll have to say goodbye to her drugs. She’d rather take heroin for the rest of her life than sleep on a mattress ever again.

Kaz convinces her that there is more to life than restless nights selling herself to strangers and poisoning her body with illicit substances. She spends forever trying to recover, to heal herself. It takes months, and many relapses, but she kicks every toxic habit out of her life.

She screams and yells, and cries, and threatens to kill everyone in sight, but at the end of the night, she falls asleep, exhausted and clean from the drugs.

They celebrate Valentine’s Day at the shelter, and she gets a bag full of chocolates.

She’s sober enough to taste every single one of them.

***

She’s barely old enough to drink when she nearly kills a man for the first time.

It’s the man who raped her the very first night she worked in the streets.

She hits him once, twice, and she punches him in the throat before she shoves her foot in his stomach. He lets out a cry and she feels powerful, higher than the highest commander. She jabs him again, harder this time, and she feels a piece of her soul disappears in the air. She ignores it. It doesn’t matter if she loses her humanity. At least, this man will get what he deserves.

She avoids his head, not wanting to kill him yet. She lets out an animalistic cry when she hits him between his legs and he nearly faints. She watches him beg and plead, and she smiles coldly like she couldn’t care less because truly, she doesn’t give a damn if he dies right here and now.

She could live off this feeling alone. Every time she touches him, she feels better, like she’ll never be the victim again, like no one will ever take advantage of her again. She’s worth so much more than this, and she’s ready to prove it.

Kaz looks at the scene with eagle eyes.

“Do you want to join the Red Right Hand?”

Allie remembers what happened the last time she joined a group, the last time she was asked to _work_ for someone. She’s about to say no when Kaz adds something.

“You’ll get to have revenge on everyone.”

She hits the man’s head in response. Fuck this shit.

It’s Valentine’s Day, and she feels like she will never love again.

***

She has a short adventure with a woman from the shelter she’s staying at. It’s all fun, and there’s no feelings involved, and she discovers that she has a natural talent to flirt with anyone she meets. She tests her skills on everyone, keeping it a secret from the social workers that are watching her every move.

She charms more women into her bed as time goes by and she learns to love her body again. She discovers what sex, real sex, means. It isn’t about tongues being shove down her throat or clothes being discarded too fast. It isn’t about hard mechanical movements that end with a loud moan above her head while she just pretends to be loving it.

She longs for a real connection with someone.

She fights with herself not to go back to old habits that kept her prisoners of the streets, and she becomes addicted to the feeling of sleeping next to someone again. Most of the time, Kaz joins her to lie by her side, and Allie thinks she’s found a real friend this time.

She’s not in love, and she doesn’t want to be, but her life is now full of distractions and it feels good.

It’s Valentine’s Day, but she doesn’t celebrate it anymore.

***

She sees her on the news for the first time when she’s fighting insomnia.

She blinks a few times, like she can’t quite believe that what is happening is real, but the ache between her legs reminds her that this isn’t a dream.

Red hair that looks like fire, determined hard eyes that are thirsty for justice, jaw that can cut through steel, and toned muscles to die for. Allie is nearly drooling when Kaz joins her on the couch to watch the news.

Allie reads every article she can find on that woman, listen to everything about her on the news, and learns everything there is to know about the case. She drowns herself in a sea of information and soon, she can’t get this woman out of her head.

Every man she hits afterwards, she does in the name of that woman. She imagines that, somehow, this woman is looking at her and telling her that she’s doing the right thing for the world. Every person she hits is Harry Smith, and she finds herself hitting harder and harder every time.

She develops a crush on her personal hero, and Kaz starts warning her that they’re not murderers and that their quest for revenge isn’t so they can kill every man on their way.

Allie thinks that she’d give her life just to meet with Bea Smith.

***

She looks at the bars that keep her locked from the outside world. She isn’t surprised that this is where she ends up, she just didn’t expect it to hurt that much. She’d always thought she couldn’t hurt anymore.

She runs her hand through her hair and sighs. She’s definitely hit rock bottom this time, but she puts on a brave face for Kaz. The Red Right Hand gave her hope that justice could be served. She might be locked up for years now, but at least, it was worth it.

“I’m Allie Novak,” she declared, trying to pretend like she knows what she’s doing, when really, she couldn’t know what one plus one means right now. Her heart is racing and she’s sweating so much that she wishes she’d taken a shower before coming here.

She wears the mask of confidence and she’s convinced that no one notices how nervous she is, until Bea locks her eyes in hers, and Allie knows her game doesn’t fool her.

She waits for an answer, any kind of answer, but Bea Smith only stares back at her with the deepest of silences. She would kill to hear her voice, but she accepts her fate and leaves the group after she makes the appointment for Kaz.

She daydreams all the way back to her cell, and when she crashes to her bed, she scoffs at how naïve she is.

There’s no way Bea Smith would ever look twice at her.

It doesn’t mean she won’t try.

***

Bea Smith is everything.

She’s beautiful, and kind, and human in spite of her position of Top Dog and her life sentence. She directs the women with a sense of justice that Allie respects and challenges at the same time. She looks at Allie like she would anyone else, except there’s a small smile on her face, and there’s a twinkle in her eyes, and there’s a softness in her voice that Allie is the only one to receive.

Allie can’t stay away. She hears Kaz, but she listens to Bea, and every time she thinks Bea is pulling away from her, something new happens.

She gets a haircut and she hopes she finally can put her past behind.

She gets caught with gear that isn’t hers, and she thinks that life really does hate her, until Bea Smith is brought to the cell next to hers.

She spends the entire night talking with Bea, sharing the story of her life for the first time. She tells her about that time she got kicked out of her house, and that moment she decided that she’d be a prostitute. Bea listens, and cares, and even makes her laugh when she wants to cry.

Allie thinks that this is the most beautiful kind of intimacy.

She’s way past the age of secret notes being passed around at recess, but in that moment, she wishes she could ask Bea on a date.

***

“It’s not cold.”

She’ll be damned if she lets Bea gets away with it. She walks a little closer, and her heart beats a little faster, and Bea stays there, doesn’t move back. It might be now or never. and she presses her lips against Bea’s gently, carefully bringing them together.

Bea doesn’t reject her, and Allie smiles into the kiss, afraid that if she deepens it, Bea will run away. She pulls her closer delicately, like Bea is made of porcelain and Allie is a hammer that destroys everything it touches. She doesn’t want to break Bea too and she pulls away.

Bea looks at her with unbreakable eyes, and Allie leans forward again, capturing her lips with more passion. It’s still soft and calm, and time freezes around them. Allie wishes she could stay like this forever. The world could burn around them, and she wouldn’t notice.

She’s getting something back, something she’d thought was gone forever, but she can’t quite put a word on it.

She moves back, breaking the kiss, and stares into Bea’s darkened eyes.

She feels a butterfly in her stomach and she wonders if she’s dreaming.

She’d thought she’d lost her ability to feel love, but she isn’t so sure anymore.

***

They have secret meetings in the equipment rooms and it feels like she’s young again, free falling for the girl next door. It’s silly, the way they look at each other like they’re children, discovering feelings for the first time of their life.

They aren’t in prison anymore. They’re outside, running in the sun and outshining it. They’re five years old telling each other they’ll be friends forever, and they’re sixteen years old promising each other that they’ll be in love for the rest of their life. They leave behind their fears and their false identities for a few minutes everyday when the door closes behind them.

She doesn’t just kiss and forget. She makes it last, savors every moment they spend together, and marvels in the way Bea doesn’t pull away from her anymore. She gains the other woman’s trust slowly, and in exchange, she receives a kind of love that isn’t spoiled by drugs or sex, or lies.

This is the best kind of love, and Allie thinks that prison really isn’t so bad anymore.

One day, Allie forgets to take back her fears and false identity when she leaves the equipment room.

She spends the rest of the day with a lovesick grin.

It feels amazing.

***

She relapses.

Of course, she does. Bea is accusing her of being everything that she’s not, and she has nothing to prove her wrong but her words. She tries and she tries, but Bea is back to being Top Dog, and Allie can’t do anything but watches her words bounce back on Bea’s impenetrable armor.

She’s incapable of dealing with her feelings in a healthy way, and Bea’s empty eyes are haunting her at night. She takes ice, as much as she can find within these prison walls, but it’s never enough to numb the feelings in her chest. She is suffocated by pain, and she wonders why she once lost her ability to love, but never her ability to hurt.

It doesn’t matter anymore, because she feels both love and pain tearing her apart.

No amount of drugs make her feel better than the way she does when she looks at Bea.

She wonders why Bea doesn’t try to have revenge on her.

She tells her she loves her because she has nothing to lose.

She was wrong.

When Bea shoots back lifeless words at her, Allie loses the last piece of her heart.

***

It’s more than just sex.

She knows it the second they reach the bed, their lips engaged in a heavy kiss. It isn’t like those times she had sex with strangers, or even when she had sex with a few women from the shelter. It’s not about lips trying to tear each other apart or fingers reaching for her center without warning.

It’s more than that. It’s about her, and it’s about Bea, and it’s about _them_ only.

She doesn’t want to go too fast, afraid of the past that can creep up on them at any time. She lets Bea set the pace because she knows this is something Bea needs. She waits for Bea to look at her with questioning, vulnerable eyes before she tells her they don’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to.

She doesn’t receive any answer, but a kiss that reaches for her soul.

It’s warm and slow, and innocent, and she helps Bea discover her body by guiding her hands slowly around the curves of her breasts. She kisses Bea’s neck and sucks on her pulse point, eliciting the most delicious sounds from Bea’s throat. She caresses every inch of Bea’s skin, sometimes laughing slightly in Bea’s ears to defuse the growing tension. Bea laughs too, and Allie thinks that she is living in a dream.

She takes her time, never quite touching Bea _there_ until she knows that Bea feels truly safe.

When Bea comes, quietly and so beautifully, Allie feels her own heart being put back together.

It’s Valentine’s Day and they both learn to love again.

***

She screams, but no sound comes out of her mouth, and the panic grows deeper in her heart.

She pushes and punches and resists, but her body is growing weaker by the second.

She can’t die, she thinks as she looks at her reflection in the mirror.

Not now, not when she just discovered what it means to be with Bea. Not when she just felt Bea tremble against her for the first time. Not when she just shared the most precious moment of her entire life. Not when she finally earned Bea’s trust and when she finally feels free to love her. Not when she’s found friends and family, and a place where she really feels she belongs.

She can’t die, she thinks as the Freak pushes the drugs in her body.

Not when she’s just starting to live again and when she’s realizing that her heart isn’t gone from her chest. Not when she has so many things to say to Bea, so many memories to make, so many laughs to share. Not when they are supposed to have years ahead of them to fall in love and make everyone jealous of what they’ve found. Not when they’re supposed to grow old together, even if prison tries to force them apart.

She can’t die when, for the first time in a while, she really fucking wants to live.

Not when she needs to stay for Bea. Not when she must protect Bea from crazy people like The Freak. Not when she needs to shelter Bea’s heart from all the ugliness of the world. Not when she knows that Bea cannot be left alone anymore, because who knows what will happen to her?

She needs more time.

She needs more time to tell Bea that she is beautiful, to tell her that she loves her until she believes in those words. She needs to tell her that she wants to spend the rest of her life with her because without her, nothing makes sense. She needs to tell her that she’s been through some terrible things in her life, but it doesn’t matter anymore because they all lead her to her. She needs to tell her that Bea’s the only one who can make her heart party in her chest the way it does when they’re together.

She can’t die, she thinks as everything turns black.

***

When she wakes up, her first thought is Bea.

But then, someone holds her hand tightly and whispers the words that she wishes she could unhear.

Bea died.

The news crashes into her and aims flawlessly at her heart.

Allie dies too, disappears in every unsaid word.

She remembers her parents’ voices telling her she would end up in hell for loving a woman.

She thinks that maybe they were right after all.

When she feels her soul shuts down, her last thought is Bea.

Agony proposes to her and they have a gruesome wedding to celebrate their union.

***

She wishes she’d died.

She wishes no one had found her on that bathroom floor, so that the Freak’s plan could have worked.

She wishes she could be six feet under, somewhere far far away, rather than be here, trapped within these same four walls.

Not much has changed here.

She has eight years left to rot in jail. When Bea was there, Allie was ready to spend her entire life in prison. She’d planned everything. She’d make every day better than the previous one, and she’d even commit another crime later to be thrown back by Bea’s side.

But now?

Now, she wishes she hadn’t fallen in love with someone like Bea.

Someone so strong that even death bowed down before her and granted her entrance.

***

Liz comes find her on Valentine’s Day, a year later, when the Freak is gone but her heart is still in pieces and her soul is still nowhere to be found. She’s sick of hearing everyone talking about their boyfriends or girlfriends, and how this date is a celebration of all that is beautiful in the world.

She hates it. She wants to kill someone and the only reason she doesn’t is because Kaz would never forgive her.

“I found this under my mattress the day after Bea went for the Freak,” is all she says and Allie refuses to look at the drawing book that is being offered to her.

She refuses to touch it. She stares at it like it’s made of poison. The second she touches it, it’ll set her on fire and burn her alive, and torture her until she cannot bleed anymore. But she won’t die.

She never does. She isn’t lucky enough to die.

“She thought you were dead, love, but she left it so we wouldn’t forget you.”

Liz leaves and the drawing book remains on Allie’s bed.

***

She lasts twenty-four hours before she gives in.

She opens the drawing book like it’s made of gold and the first thing she sees is herself. A breathtaking portrait of herself stares right back at her, and she wonders if this is truly how Bea saw her all these times. It seems like this person isn’t her anymore.

This woman is beautiful, joyful, free of all the burdens of her past. She smiles with her eyes and she isn’t inhabited by demons trying to eat her brain. She has dreams and wishes, and she probably has a bright future ahead of her. She loves, and she is loved, and she is nothing like Allie.

She doesn’t know how long she stares at it, at this strangely familiar face that she doesn’t quite recognize as her own. Was she ever like that, or did Bea fall in love with someone she never was?

_January 14._

  1. _Remember her when I no longer can._



She stares at this distant version of herself for a long time.

She doesn’t stop crying until sleep pities her and comes for her.

She doesn’t know how to live in a world where Bea Smith is gone.

***

The second time is easier. She takes the drawing book from under her mattress. It’s the first time she takes it since last year. She hasn’t been able to face herself again. It only reminds her a happy ending she’s not worthy of.

She turns the page and glances at the second drawing and scoffs. It’s a representation of the heart they drew on the wall outside. Their names are linked together, and Allie remembers when Bea told her she’d signed her up for meditation classes. What bullshit.

She’d give anything and everything just to hear her voice again, just to hear her laugh again.

_February 14._

  1. _Stay with me._



She cries when she realizes she can’t remember Bea’s voice anymore. She tries hard to remember, but she’s left with pieces of a distant past.

It’s been too long, and the memories are fading away, and no matter how hard she tries to keep them, they slip away, they always do. She misses Bea’s voice, her words, her everything, and she can’t accept that she’ll never hear it again.

No one sounds like Bea did. No one could speak with magic in their voice.

She thinks it’s unfair that Bea wrote _stay with me_ when she’s the one who left her behind.

Bea left her, and Allie wants nothing more than to beg her to stay.

Stay.

Stay because we’re not over, we’re not done, and this story isn’t completed yet.

Stay because you’re going somewhere I can’t follow, and it’s unfair and cruel and I don’t want to be left behind.

Stay because I’m lost without you and I can’t bear the thought of losing you.       

“Stay,” she says out loud.

Bea’s voice isn’t there to answer.

***

The third year, she sleeps with someone else the day before Valentine’s Day. She’s barely started to put herself back together when she meets Ruby’s path. She doesn’t notice the other woman at first, doesn’t even flirt back with her because she’s not ready to entertain the possibility of meeting someone else.

But Ruby is easy to be with, undeniably beautiful, and her snarky remarks catch Allie’s attention for a night.

Allie leaves when Ruby is still sleeping. She’s not ready for the aftermath, or any kind of _after_ if she’s honest. She doesn’t feel like she’s ever going to be ready. She’s still trying to live without half of her heart, and she’s still trying a bit too hard to pretend like she’s okay.

She finds solace in her room and the drawing book she knows is hidden under the mattress. She lies on her bed in silence for a while, wondering if she’s just betrayed Bea. Guilt creeps up on her and she feels like she’s going to be sick.

How can she be sleeping with someone else? How can she find comfort in someone else’s arms when Bea is still there, alive in her mind and forever keeping her heart hostage? How can she smile or laugh when Bea is gone?

She can’t.

She has to stop herself. She doesn’t deserve to be happy when it’s partially her fault that Bea is gone. If she hadn’t gone to that bathroom, if she had resisted harder against the Freak, then Bea would still be alive, and they would be together.

She punches her wall with all her strength until her knuckles bleed, and only then does she slide to the floor and hide her face in the palms of her battered hands. She knows it’s not her fault and that she has no one to blame but the Freak herself. She almost doesn’t take the drawing book, but she figures it’s too late too go back.

She can’t turn back time, no matter how much she wishes she could.

A drop of blood falls on the cover of the drawing book, and Allie ignores it.

She turns the pages until she finds a page full of small sketches. Her eyes, her lips, her hands, her silhouette. It’s full of little things that make her who she is, and Bea has captured it perfectly. Even her flaws appear to be perfect.

Allie imagines Bea drawing all of this, and her heart ache at the thought that Bea planned all of this.

Bea knew she wouldn’t come back, and Allie can’t even be mad, because she knows what it’s like to walk this Earth after losing a soulmate.

Still. How could Bea plan her death like this? How could she not wait longer for her?

_February 14._

  1. _She completes me._



She goes back to Ruby the next day.

She laughs, really laughs, for the first time in forever, and she feels terrible about it.

***

The fourth year, she’s in pain.

She fights with another woman who is threatening to take away Kaz’s position as Top Dog.

She throws punches and breaks her left hand, but she couldn’t care less. It helps her. It brings her back to the times where she communicated with violence and revenge. She laughs mercifully when she wins the fight, and she adds a few kicks just because she can. She swears to protect Kaz because Kaz is all she has left.

She thinks she’ll feel better after the fight, like all her anger and frustration will be evacuated, but she’s wrong.

She used to feel invincible after a good fight, but now she only feels empty.

She falls to the floor and lets out a choked cry, and when Will Jackson comes to bring her to medical, she doesn’t resist.

Kaz looks at her through the window of the infirmary like she worries about her, and Allie finally accepts that Bea wasn’t the only one who cared about her. She lets Kaz worry, lets Kaz take care of her for the first time in a long time.

She can’t leave the infirmary for Valentine’s Day, and she wonders when this pain will ever leave her alone. She doesn’t think it’s normal that, after so many years, she still has nightmares in which Bea calls out her name in the distance.  It’s not normal that she still aches like the very first day, and that she still longs for Bea’s embrace when she’s gotten used to being alone. It’s not normal that she can’t fucking move on.

And it’s not that she wants to move on, it’s just that she thinks moving on might be the only way she’ll divorce her agony.

 Kaz sneaks in and brings her the drawing book at the risks of being sent to the slot, and Allie is reminded that she still has four years left in this godforsaken place.

She turns the pages while being careful not to let her gaze linger on the previous drawings. This year’s drawing is small. It lives in a small corner of the sheet of paper, while the written words take the rest of the place.

It’s Allie’s eyes, looking right back at her. There’s life bleeding from this drawing, and Allie stares at herself for a few minutes before she remembers to blink.

_February 14._

  1. _She’s strong._



She vows to move on.

Bea would want her to.

***

The fifth year, there’s no drawing, just a simple note, written in a cursive font.

_February 14._

  1. _I feel empty without her._



Allie locks herself in her room for two days afterwards.

She doesn’t feel as sad as she used to, and it’s a strange feeling to harbor.

She misses Bea, there’s no doubt about it, but at least now, she isn’t looking for Bea whenever she goes outside. She doesn’t try to hear her voice whenever she’s in a room full of people. She doesn’t reach for Bea’s hand whenever she needs to feel someone’s skin against her. She doesn’t crave her voice as much as she used to, doesn’t need to hear Bea’s laugh to laugh too.

Of course, she wishes Bea was back, but she finds herself accepting the fact that Bea won’t walk through her door with her signature smile anymore.

What does she do with this newfound lightness?

What does she do when she doesn’t feel so empty anymore?

Everything has a price, even love. Love doesn’t ask for money. It doesn’t care about bills and coins, or gold and silver. It only asks for the most important things, those that can’t be bought or sold. It asks for insecurities, vulnerabilities, hopes and dreams. It asks for courage and trust, and devotion. It asks for energy, and constant efforts, and strength. It asks for a soul.

And if one is patient enough, they get their soul back.

She can’t quite move on, but she thinks she is moving on anyway.

She cries again, but not from pain. From relief.

***

The sixth year, she comes out of her room for Valentine’s Day and celebrates with the women. It’s Boomer’s release day, and Allie isn’t one to miss on the opportunity to wish her good luck. It feels strange to interact with these women. It’s like something broke in all of them when Bea left, and they’re still trying to rebuild this missing link, unaware that nothing will ever be the same.

It’s a fun evening, and they drink a strange mixture that doesn’t quite taste like alcohol, but that still makes them dance until the early hours of the morning when the guards stop trying to control them. They talk too loud and they laugh too hard, but never enough to get in trouble. Boomer makes a speech about how she’ll miss all of them, and Liz is the only one sober enough to tell her to stop being such a sap.

She hasn’t slept in twenty-four hours when she finally goes back to her room, exhausted and heart healed from this moment. She takes out the drawing book from under her mattress, like she’s done in the past years. It still looks the same, with its darkened cover and its pages holding the most beautiful of treasures.

She looks at it differently this year.

She walks back to the common area, where her friends are still talking casually, fighting off the last hours of dawn. She hands the book to Maxine first, because it feels like the right thing to do.

She feels a piece of her heart returning to her when Maxine opens the book and lands directly on year six.

_February 14._

  1. _Family._



It’s a drawing of her, Liz, Boomer and Maxine. They’re all smiling, and they look like the family Allie never knew she had.

This day isn’t for lovers, Allie decides, it’s for family.

Even from the other side, Bea keeps teaching her everything about life.

***

The seventh year, she doesn’t touch the drawing book on Valentine’s Day.

It’s not that she forgets about it. It’s not that she doesn’t want to look at it. It’s that she’s preparing for parole, and she thinks that Bea would want her to focus on that instead. In a year, she’ll be out of here, and she’ll leave her worse memories behind. She’ll lock them within those prison walls and she won’t take them with her when she leaves.

Another inmate is helping her to get ready, to find out which words are the best to use and which subjects she should avoid. They spend hours together, and though Allie quickly forgets about her at first, she soon cannot wait for their next meeting. They meet again, and again, at different times of the day, and sometimes even at nights, where they talk about the little things.

Allie talks about Bea and the other inmate listens without pitying her.

Allie tells her about her regrets, her fears, and the pain she’s learned to live with. She tells her about the quiet emptiness that still exists within her, but how it has finally stopped controlling her. She tells her that she doesn’t expect much from life now. All she wants is to get out of prison and finally, finally visit Bea’s grave.

The other woman has chocolate hair, and warm blue eyes, and a smile that reaches within Allie’s chest to squeeze her heart lightly. Her voice is full of joy and her touch is enough to send goosebumps all over Allie’s body.

It takes a week, but Allie kisses her in the stairs one day.

It’s not Bea. No one will ever replace Bea.

But Allie cares for the first time in so long that she thinks it’s a miracle.

***

It’s a drawing of Bea.

_February 14._

  1. _Don’t lose your ability to love._



***

It’s been eight years now and Allie feels something shifts inside of her as she turns the pages.

Eight years. Eight drawings. Eight notes.

Eight times Bea reminded her that she would never be left alone.

Eight times Bea honored her memory from beyond the grave.

Bea really was convinced that they’d both be dead, and she’d planned for Allie to be remembered until the very last day of her sentence.

Allie doesn’t know what she’ll do without her daily drawing, and she feels a rush of panic being born in her stomach. She manages to catch it before it spreads and she breathes easier a few seconds later.

She’ll be alright. It won’t be perfect, but it’ll be tolerable, and she’ll survive.

She reflects on her journey. It feels like just yesterday, she was coming here with Kaz and the Red Right Hand. Just yesterday, she was meeting Bea for the first time and making a fool of herself. Just an hour ago, she was falling in lust with Bea. And just a minute ago, she was in love with Bea.

She was destroyed at some point, because life doesn’t give a break to anyone.

She can’t remember what happened during those years and it’s okay.

She doesn’t want to remember.

She turns the pages slowly, almost scared of what she’ll find at the end. And she doesn’t want it to end. Every year, she had something to look forward to. Every year, a piece of Bea was revealed to her, and Allie could feel Bea’s love surrounding her. Every year, she celebrates this day with Bea in some way. And now, what?

What will she do without these drawings?

She could always look at them again, but it won’t be the same. It won’t be like discovering something new every year. It won’t be like sharing something new with Bea every year. It won’t be the same. Allie doesn’t want it to end. She wishes she could have those drawings appear every year for the rest of her life because…

when this ends, Allie thinks, Bea will truly be gone.

She waits for as long as she can, but eventually, she finds the herculean force to turn the last page.

It’s a seahorse. A perfectly drawn seahorse that fills the entire page.

_February 14._

  1. _I love her._



She doesn’t cry, but she thinks she hears Bea’s voice tell her those words.

She closes the drawing book.

She’ll be released tomorrow.

She’ll forgive, but never forget.

Maybe, just maybe, she’ll learn to live again.


End file.
